


kiss my shades

by orphan_account



Category: Morrissey (Musician), The Smiths
Genre: Flowers, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Songfic, johnny loves morrissey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:19:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22189282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: I’m completely confused and about to argue when he leans in close and whispers in my ear, “And when you make love to her tonight, you think of me.”
Relationships: Angie Marr/Johnny Marr, Johnny Marr/Morrissey
Comments: 10
Kudos: 35





	kiss my shades

**Author's Note:**

> The sexual tension between Johnny and Morrissey finally got to me.

I’m staring at him again, but it’s impossible not to. He’s practically doing a striptease right in front of me _on stage_.

He’s awkward and his pants are too baggy in the ass, but somehow he’s alluring. Like some sort of radiant flower that’s yet to be discovered. And concerning flowers — they dive on stage like darts towards him, sometimes hitting him in the head. It’s what they do now, the fans — bring him offerings of delicate petals, strings of pearls around their necks. They’re just like him, except they’re not.

When we’re alone he’s shy and quiet, always blushing like a silly girl in love. But not here in front of all these people. Here he’s wild and bold, slipping out of his flowing blouse only to throw himself on the floor and yelp into the microphone. I struggle to see that introverted man I once rescued from his bedroom.

He looks at me and I swear I’ve died in that moment. He’s pure seduction — and I haven’t a clue how the fuck a man who claims celibacy does it, but he’s right there in front of my eyes. 

We finish up Still Ill and I turn to nod my head at Andy as we start up Hand In Glove.

Morrissey’s shuffling around between us as he begins to sing.

_Hand in glove_

_The sun shines out of our behinds_

_No, it’s not like any other love_

_This one is different, because it’s us_

I feel hot, desperately trying to convince myself that these words mean nothing. But deep down, I know they do.

_Hand in glove_

_We can go wherever we please_

_And everything depends upon_

_How near you stand to me_

I see him out of the corner of my eye gliding closer to me. He’s beaming, shirtless and sweaty. I’m captivated and renewed with lust.

_And if the people stare_

_Then the people stare_

_Oh, I really don’t know and I really don’t care_

_Kiss my shades_

I want to kiss him now, but that would be crazy, wouldn’t it? If I just stopped playing, walked up to him, and planted one right on his pretty lips, the fans would go wild.

_Hand in glove_

_The good people laugh_

Andy and mike — they’d never let it go.

_Yes, we may be hidden by rags_

_But we’ve something they’ll never have_

_Hand in glove_

_The sun shines out of our behinds_

_Yes, we may be hidden by rags_

_But we’ve something they’ll never have_

_And if the people stare_

_Then the people stare_

_Oh, I really don’t know and I really don’t care_

_Kiss my shades_

He’s backing away from me, but our eyes are still locked. I wonder, can he see the love in my eyes? 

_So, hand in glove I stake my claim_

_I’ll fight to the last breath_

_If they dare touch a hair on your head_

_I’ll fight to the last breath_

It’s hard to imagine Morrissey fighting anyone. He once made some roadie fish a drowning bumblebee from a swimming pool, for fucks sake. But I’d surely leap in front of flying bullet for him.

_For the good life is out there somewhere_

_So stay on my arm, you little charmer_

_But I know my luck too well_

_Yes, I know my luck to well_

_And I’ll probably never see you again_

_I’ll probably never see you again_

_I’ll probably never see you again_

He’s dancing around me in circles and I can’t stop looking at him. I don’t care anymore, _I want him._

We finish and Morrissey throws a bunch of wilted gladiolus into the crowd before running off stage. I follow him, hoping for a moment alone, but I know that’s most likely impossible. We’re all going out for drinks right after. Well, Moz isn’t. He’s going back to the hotel. But I can’t just act like a maniac and snog the life out of him in front of Mike, Andy and the crew.

He’s standing against the wall, twirling a single flower between his fingers. I smile and he shies away, wiping sweat from his forehead.

“You were great out there,” I tell him.

He looks at me, practically glowing.

I can’t stop myself. I step closer and closer to him, until we’re but an inch apart. And I’m ready to do it. I’m going to fucking kiss him. I close my eyes and lean in, feeling his breath on my lips, but we never meet. Instead my lips brush the petals of the flower he’s holding between us.

“Wha-?” I begin, but he silences me with a slender finger to my lips.

He gently places the flower in my hands, refusing to meet my gaze.

“Take this,” He whispers to me. “Take this, and give it to Angie.” I’m completely confused and about to argue when he leans in close and whispers in my ear, “And when you make love to her tonight, you think of me.”

Morrissey is first to pull away, his face is bright red. He smiles at me shyly before wandering off towards the restroom to change.

I’m left there, stunned, clutching on to the dumb fucking flower with everything that I have. Then Andy walks in and claps me on the back.

“Good show, yeah?” He says, though he quickly sees my face and the flower, and puts two and two together.

“What the fuck is that?”

“A flower,” I reply dumbly.

He grins knowingly. 

“One of Mozzer’s flowers?”

“Piss off-” I shove him out of my way, my face growing hot.

“Riiiiight, so, Mike and I are going to the pub. You coming? Or are you going to write poetry and cry also?” He’s laughing hysterically and even worse, Mike’s just come in.

My fist hits Andy hard on the arm and I toss Morrissey’s flower on a chair nearby. “I’m coming to the pub, you idiot. Let’s go before the fans block the back door.”

Thankfully Andy leaves it at that, but he’s still got that shit eating grin on his face. I know this isn’t over, I just hope to god he won’t tell Mike.

We eventually leave and I light a smoke, sitting in the back of a car, wondering how the fuck I’m supposed to face Morrissey tomorrow without jumping him like a horny teenager. It’s impossible, I decide. But I know I’m thinking of him tonight.


End file.
